


The Santa Clauses

by peterparkr



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, christmas christmas time is here!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterparkr/pseuds/peterparkr
Summary: Tony enlists Peter to convince Morgan that Santa is real
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 236





	The Santa Clauses

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays! It's been a hot minute since I posted anything, but I'm glad to be back. I hope you will enjoy :)

Tony can glean a lot of information from the way Pepper walks into a room. Actually, he can tell a lot about anyone from the way they enter a room, he’s perceptive like that. But, he has years of studying Pepper under his belt, so she’s definitely his area of expertise.

The way that the door to the garage swings open—fast, yet controlled, she doesn’t let it slam into the wall, but it’s a near thing—means that Tony did something Not Good. Not 'slowly dying of palladium poisoning without telling anyone' bad and definitely not 'wielding all six infinity stones in a field full of super-humans' bad, but still, Not Good. Or it could be that someone close to Tony did something Not Good. Either way, it means that he has a mistake to fix.

“Tony,” she starts.

“Pepper,” he replies. “I want you to remember that the holidays are right around the corner, so in the spirit of forgiveness—”

“Oh, hush. You don’t even know what happened.”

That’s good. That means that it wasn’t Tony who made the fatal error.

Pepper leans against one of the tables, arms crossed. “You know I love Nebula and she is welcome here anytime.”

Tony feels his eyebrows raise automatically. Nebula is the offender. That’s a new one. She and Pepper get along just as well as he had speculated that they would. They have a shared love for the practical that Tony’s not sure that he will ever understand.

“What did Ms. Smurfette do?”

Pepper sighs. “She didn’t do anything on purpose.”

Tony peeks out the window of the garage. From what he can see, the house still seems to be intact. 

“She was playing outside with Morgan.”

Tony swivels to look out the window on the other side of the garage. Morgan’s toys are scattered about the yard as usual, no sign of extra destruction. Also, no sign of Morgan. Tony’s heart races for a moment, but Pepper wouldn’t be this calm if something like that had happened. 

“Morgan insisted on wearing one of her Christmas sweaters today—the one with the sleigh and the reindeer.”

Tony remembers. He’d thought it was a little early for that sort of thing. It’s only the sixth after all. But, they’re trying to foster Morgan’s self-expression.

“Nebula asked her about it. So she gave her an overview on Christmas.”

“Wasn’t Nebula here a few years ago at Christmas?”

“Yes, when Morgan was still a baby,” Pepper says. “Which is why Nebula knows that Santa and his reindeer are just characters.”

Tony’s starting to understand the problem. “And she told Morgan as much.”

“Yes, she did.”

It’s sad. Tony thought Morgan would have at least a few more magical Christmases, but she was always going to figure it out—sooner rather than later. She’s too smart. 

“Well, this was bound to happen at some point.”

“Tony, she’s six.”

“My old man told me to quit believing when—I must have been four! Maybe younger.” 

“Because that’s the example we’re trying to follow as parents,” Pepper mutters.

Tony laughs, but quickly sobers when he remembers the aftermath of that particular conversation with his dad. He’d been crushed. Even Jarvis couldn’t coax him out of his room the next day.

“Is she upset?”

“It didn’t seem like it. She just went back to playing.”

Tony breathes out a sigh of relief. “We’re in the clear then. No waterworks. That’s impressive.”

Pepper’s head snaps up. “We are not in the clear! Our daughter doesn’t believe in Santa! Christmas is in less than a month!”

“Honey, we can still have a wonderful Christ—”

“This is how it all starts.” Pepper’s head falls into her hands. “First, we lose Santa. Then, there will be no more family dinners because she’s out with friends. Then she’ll graduate and move out. It’s the beginning of the end.”

It seems that they’re spiraling on this previously calm December afternoon. Tony wants Morgan to stay as she is, all wide-eyed wonder for the world, just as much as Pepper does. He’s just not sure if the Santa-thing means the end of all of that. “Don’t you think—”

Pepper points a finger at him. “Fix this, Tony.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you!”

She’s gone before he can say anything else. It’s Tony’s turn to rest his head in his hands.

* * *

Tony raps his knuckles on Morgan’s door. “Maguna, anybody home?”

There’s a quick succession of footsteps from inside, then the rustling of sheets. 

“No,” she calls, followed by barely stifled laughter.

“Oh, I see.” Tony pushes the door open and steps inside, surveying the child-shaped lump under the comforter. “Then I guess it’s the perfect time to finally take all of her toys to sell. I’ve been trying for years. Look at me now, FRI, it’s finally happening.”

“Stealing from a six-year-old, boss, very impressive.”

“FRIDAY, stop him,” Morgan whispers. “Override code alpha-romeo--”

It’s only the first two letters of one of his override codes, but it's enough to convince him that Morgan has the whole thing. It’s not the first time she’s gotten one, and it won’t be the last either. She’s going to be a nightmare to keep up with as a teenager, Tony can feel it.

“Woah, there.” Tony places two hands on the comforter and yanks it back with a bit of flourish. “When did you discover that one, little miss?”

She covers her face with her hands and shakes her head.

Tony decides to let it go. He’s here for a more urgent reason—a ‘Pepper will never forgive me if I don’t fix this’ reason. 

He sits at the foot of the bed. Morgan clambers the rest of the way out from under the covers to sit next to him.

“Mom said that Nebula played with you today. That was nice of her.”

Morgan nods. “She let me take off part of her hand.”

“She—“ Tony trails off, shaking his head. He’s learned not to question what Morgan and earth’s mightiest heroes get up to. Morgan has all of them wrapped around her tiny finger.

“I put it back just right,” she adds.

“Good job.” Tony brushes her hair back so that it’s not flopping over her right eye. “Just be nice, okay? Nebula might not want to be treated like a project all the time.”

“Okay.”

“Did you and her do anything else today? Or—talk about anything else?”

Morgan’s face scrunches up in thought, before smoothing out again. “I told her about Christmas. She said Santa isn’t real.”

Tony knew that, but it still feels like a punch in the gut to hear the words out of Morgan’s mouth. He steels himself for the rest of the conversation.

“Do you believe that?” He keeps his tone as neutral as possible.

“Why would Nebbie lie?”

He hadn’t been prepared for that one. All he can do is hum in response.

“Did she lie?”

Tony purses his lips and looks to the side. He can’t outright lie to Morgan’s face. It’s too much of a betrayal. He should create some sort of telepathic link so he can tell FRIDAY to sound an alarm just from his thoughts. It would help him get out of so many sticky situations. 

“It’s a little complicated, Mo.” Tony cringes even as he says it. It’s not his finest save.

She seems to accept it though, nodding sagely. “I’ll figure it out.”

* * *

Tony calls Peter.

“Is this a trick question, Mr. Stark? Because when May asks me that, I’m supposed to say yes, because otherwise she gets all sad and then I get sad, too, because—”

Sometimes talking to Peter is like listening to a hamster run around and around on its squeaky wheel. Then the hamster gets off, does a lap around the cage, and hops back on to run in the other direction. It’s exhausting, and grates on his nerves at times, but somehow it’s mostly just endearing.

“I just want your answer, the truth, please.”

There’s a long silence. 

“No. I do not believe in Santa.” He whispers it, like it’s some shameful secret. “Unfortunately.”

“Perfect, I need your help.”

* * *

Peter doesn’t cry when Tony explains the situation, but it’s a near thing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, as he tries to collect himself. “I thought that we had some Christmas-themed villain to take down. Not this. She’s so young. How did this happen?”

Tony waves his hand in the air. “Long story, Nebula’s fault.”

“This is a disaster,” Peter mumbles. He seems almost as distraught as the time they thought Morgan had been kidnapped. Tony should lock him and Pepper in a room and let them commiserate until all the fretting is out of their systems. “What’s our plan?”

Peter  _ is _ the plan. “I thought maybe you could talk about Santa like he’s, you know, real. She worships the ground you walk on.”

“Oh man.” Peter grimaces. “I don’t know. That’s a lot of pressure.”

Tony stares at him in disbelief. “Kid, you fought a titan—on an alien planet.”

“There’s so much more at stake here!”

Tony rolls his eyes and then places his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “You’ve got this. I trust you.”

Something in Peter’s face shifts and hardens. He nods once, sharp and final, before spinning toward the door and walking out of the room.

“Oh, you’re going for it, now, right now?” 

Peter doesn’t stop, so Tony follows him into the family room where Morgan is criss-cross on the floor surrounded by magnets. She’s moving one around above them so that they spin to align with the poles.

“Hey, Morgan,” Peter says.

She drops the the magnet in her hand and leaps to her feet, sending a bunch of others scattering around the room. Tony tries to catalogue where they go so he can find them later. At least three slide under the couch. One is between the chair and the end table.

Morgan runs at Peter and he lifts her into the air with an ease that Tony can’t help but envy. He tosses her once, and ducks a little so that she falls longer than she thought she would. She squeals as he catches her again.

“I didn’t know you were coming over!” She beams at Peter. Her grin has gained a few gaps in the last month. Pepper has a point about time flying. 

“Well, here I am!” Peter tosses Morgan onto the couch and plops down next to her. Tony wanders into the kitchen so that he can still hear without obviously spying.

“Are you excited for Christmas? Have you written your letter to Santa?”

Tony winces. Peter’s going straight in. Subtlety has never been one of his finer skills.

Morgan doesn’t answer right away and Tony has to resist the strong urge to go back and see what’s happening.

“Yeah,” she says slowly. “Have you?”

“Of course! I’m so excited to see what he’s going to bring me.”

“Oh.” Morgan sounds confused.

“I always hear reindeer’s footsteps on my roof on Christmas Eve! Have you ever heard them?”

“Um, I don’t know, maybe?"

It goes on like that for a while, Peter finding more and more creative ways to keep the conversation centered around Santa. Tony puts a stop to it when Peter claims that he saw Father Christmas himself at a beach one summer.

He makes some excuse about May calling and practically drags Peter out of the room.

“I think I really sold it,” Peter says. “Did you hear me?”

“Oh yeah, aces,” Tony deadpans. “Stick with the superhero gig, alright kid?”

After Peter leaves, Morgan follows Tony into the garage. His plan was to work on some of her presents, but he can’t do that with her watching, so he ends up opening old suit plans instead. He spins them around idly, hoping Morgan will get bored and leave.

“Peter believes in Santa, like a lot,” she finally says.

Tony stops and turns to her. Maybe the plan had worked after all. 

“You should tell Nebbie not to tell him. I think it would make him  _ really  _ sad.”

Tony nearly smacks his head into the concrete wall. Pepper’s going to kill him.

* * *

Tony takes Morgan to lunch—a nice little diner where they won’t be bothered by any reporters.

They get almost matching cheeseburgers, Morgan’s sans pickles. Tony waits until she’s finished about half of hers before launching into his prepared speech.

“Remember when I told you that Santa was complicated?”

Morgan’s nose wrinkles and she places her burger down. “I’ve been trying to figure it out. It should just be a yes or no answer.”

“A lot of things that seem straight-forward aren’t,” Tony replies. “You’ll learn that as you grow up.”

She sits up straighter. “I’m almost seven.”

“That you are, which is why I’m going to explain it a little bit, sound good?”

She nods. Tony takes a deep breath. Belatedly, he realizes that he should have discussed the route he had decided to take with Pepper beforehand. There’s no going back now, with her eyes fixed on him, watching expectantly.

“I like to think of Santa as a metaphor.”

“Those are the ones without ‘like’ or ‘as’.”

Tony smiles. “Exactly. Santa represents being kind and giving.”

Morgan tears her napkin in half. Tony feels like he can see her thinking, trying to predict exactly where he’s going with this.

“We all get a chance to be a Santa, when we’re ready.”

Morgan abandons the strips of paper and meets Tony’s eyes. “How do you know when you’re ready?”

“Well,” Tony says. “As an experienced Santa, I can make that decision.”

Her chin juts out, a little. It’s the same face Pepper makes when she’s preparing to lay out her best argument. Tony feels his lips tug upward.

“You’re a little young, kiddo, but I think you might be ready.”

She wiggles a little in her chair, excitement radiating out of her. “What does a Santa have to do?”

“Well, there are a few rules.” Morgan leans forward. “The first is that you can’t talk to anyone who isn’t a Santa about it.”

“Is mom a Santa?”

“Of course she is.”

Morgan looks relieved. “Good, I can’t keep secrets from mom. She always knows.”

Pepper will love to hear that one. Tony can’t wait to tell her.

“As a first-year Santa, your job is to choose one person to give a gift to. You have to find out what they want without asking them and the most important part is that you can’t tell them it was you.”

“Easy,” Morgan says.

“Do you know who you’re going to pick?”

Morgan nods around a mouthful of burger.

* * *

Morgan chooses Peter, of course. She’s an overachiever, so her gift is two-part.

The first part, Tony helps her with. They code a slew of upgrades into a new holiday suit, from the more practical things — _ the heater needs to be warmer on his hands, sometimes they feel like ice after he patrols, dad _ — to the festive — _ would jingle bells give him away to the bad guys?  _ When it’s finished, it’s green where the original was blue, and the spider symbol has a Santa hat. There are also some Christmas fairy lights sewn in for if he’s in a particularly jolly mood.

The second part, Morgan does all by herself. She types up a note, to Peter, from Santa. She doesn’t let Tony read it. 

She delivers the suit before Christmas so that Peter can wear it during the holiday season. Tony drops her off at May’s apartment building and waits in the car so she can have a quick escape. She sprints out of the building, gesturing wildly for him to start the car.

When footage of Spidey in Rockefeller Center, with the Christmas lights shining bright, appears on the news, Morgan jumps up and down and plays it on loop.

“I think Peter likes it, mom, dad, look he’s wearing it by the big Christmas tree!”

She pumps a fist in the air as Peter swings in front of the camera once again. He throws up a peace sign and Morgan mirrors it, bouncing on her toes.

Pepper squeezes Tony’s arm. “You did good. Thank you.”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised.”

“Two words,” she says. “Giant bunny.”

“Oh, come on!”

* * *

On Christmas morning, Morgan tears through her presents with the same vigor that she brings to most things. The pattern she takes to go through them is systematic, yet the action of opening each is reckless, crumpled up balls of paper flying in all directions.

There are toys and books and gadgets. Most notable is the present that Pepper and Tony poured most of their time into — a robot that Pepper had sketched out and Tony had built. The pieces are disassembled, in a box. There’s a tool kit so that Morgan can put it together herself, and a paint set so that she can decorate it. 

She runs over after she opens that one, wrapping her arms around both of them, as far as they will reach.

“You guys are the best Santas,” she whispers. She squeezes one final time and bounds back to the box, prying it open and dumping its contents on the floor.

Pepper leans her head on Tony’s shoulder and sniffles. Tony’s definitely not crying.

* * *

May and Peter are supposed to get to the cabin at 3:00. Tony knows that this means to expect them around 3:30. Morgan starts standing by the window at 2:45.

Tony, Pepper, and even FRIDAY try to coax her back to her toys, but she refuses to move. 

“Peter will love the letter,” Tony tells her.

“You haven’t read it!”

“You wouldn’t let me, Mo.”

She sighs. “I should throw it away.”

“No, you worked hard on it. He’ll love it.”

The telltale crunch of tire on gravel nears the house. Morgan gasps and presses her face against the window. Then she runs around Tony to open the front door. 

“Santa left a present under our tree for you, Peter,” Morgan blurts as soon as he steps inside.

“Really? Should I get it now?”

Morgan pales. “Um, if you want to.”

Peter heads for the tree and Morgan darts to Pepper’s side, latching onto her arm.

The letter is in a holiday-themed envelope, red with a snowflake border. Morgan had asked Pepper to write Peter’s name in cursive on the front. He picks it up and tears the adhesive, careful not to rip the envelope or the contents.

It takes him a few seconds to read it and then he blinks a couple of times and clears his throat. His eyes dart over to Morgan, then Tony, then finally up to the ceiling.

“Thanks Santa,” he says. “That means a lot.”

Morgan grins. She buries her face into Pepper’s side to hide it.

She goes back to working on her robot on the floor after that. May and Pepper sit on the couch by her, half-watching, half-chatting. Tony and Peter drift into the kitchen.

“What did it say?”

Peter clears his throat again and then passes the letter into Tony’s hands. “You can read it.”

Tony hesitates, but curiosity wins over and he opens the folded paper.

_ Dear Peter, _

_ Congratulations on being on the nice list. It’s great to finally write to you. You’re one of my favorite children, and that’s saying a lot because I know all the children in the whole world. I heard that you’re a big fan of Santa. I’m honored that Spider-Man thinks so highly of me. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me!  _

_ This year, I wanted to write you a letter because you’re one of the most deserving people in the world to hear from Santa Claus. A lot of people were sad when you were gone. People told stories about Spider-Man, but Morgan’s dad told stories about Peter Parker. He missed Peter a lot. He’s a little old to write letters to me, but I’m sure if he did, he would have asked for you back. Morgan thought the same thing, so she added you to her Christmas lists for her dad. That wish finally came true last year. _

_ Morgan originally wanted you back just to make her dad happy, but she got the best big brother out of it too! Keep up the good work! Santa is very proud of you! _

_ Merry Christmas, _

_ Santa _

_ P.S. I hope to see you again at the beach this summer. _

Tony folds the paper back in half and slides it across the counter to Peter. He picks it up and places it back in the envelope.

“She did,” Tony says. “She always put 'Peter' on her lists — once she was old enough to write them. Cried like a baby the first time I saw it."

Peter’s finger is running over the outside of the envelope, tracing the lines where the paper meets. Tony feels like he should say more, but he doesn’t know what. Even if he did, anything longer than a few words would probably come out choked and end in tears. This Christmas isn’t for crying. All of the darkest days are over.

“Merry Christmas, Tony,” Peter says.

Tony leans a little to the side to bump Peter’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> So originally I thought it was a cute holiday idea to convince Morgan that Santa's real. But, then I did some research and most websites say, uh, not to do that but I still thought the premise was cute for a fic so I twisted it a bit with some inspo from [this](https://www.today.com/parents/santa-real-handling-santa-talk-your-kids-t105765) because I thought it was so freaking adorable
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!
> 
> Here's my [tumblr!](https://peterparkrr.tumblr.com)  
> Reblog the [post](https://peterparkrr.tumblr.com/post/189529432386/the-santa-clauses) for this story maybe?


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